


Brand New Day

by thismidnight



Category: Prison Break
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 20:02:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7984360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thismidnight/pseuds/thismidnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little preview of what I hope life is like for Michael, Sara, and Mike in the future. Based entirely on the picture of Michael and Sara the PB writers posted on Twitter last week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brand New Day

 

      _most kind of stories_  
_save the best part for last_  
_and most stories have a hero who finds_  
_you make your past your past_  

_“We’ll come home and we’ll talk about work. And what we want for dinner. Movies.”_

 

**Fall, 2017**

 

He still expects it all to be a dream.

The times he feels this way are fewer and far between now than they were even a year ago, especially now that they’ve all really settled into their new home and their new routines. But sometimes, still, he half expects the walls of his home to come crumbling down, for his wife and his son to disappear, and to wake up within the cold, cement confines of his cell at Fox River. Or worse, he thinks, remembering the scorching, hell on earth that he had experienced in Yemen.

They had decided on Boston. Once all the dust had settled from his last escape and everyone was safe, the question was where did they go? Where would they feel safe? Michael had suggested Chicago, what was once home for them both, but Sara was quick to veto it. Too many memories, she had said. Bad ones, ones she didn’t particularly want to come back and haunt them. Somewhere new, she had said. We need somewhere new, somewhere that hasn’t been involved in any of this. He agreed. But they still had no idea where that place would be.

Their son had actually chosen Boston, which felt fitting for them both, that he chose where the next chapter of their lives would start. They had been at a loss for where to go, so they had asked his opinion. _What about Boston?_ He had suggested innocently. _My teacher at my old school came from there. He liked it a lot, especially baseball. Maybe Boston would be fun._

And so, in the absence of any other options, Boston it was. A new house, a new city, a new beginning.

Michael had found work quickly, a consulting job for an engineering firm that specialized in secure facilities. Mike had quickly taken to his new school, Sara began working to get her medical license reinstated, and they had settled into a small house about 30 minutes north of Boston. Things, for once, were looking up for all of them.

Which is why, when Michael comes home on the Friday before he’s set to take Mike to his first baseball game at Fenway Park to an empty house, he’s immediately on edge. And the feeling that he’s about to wake up and realize everything they’ve worked for in the past few months is nothing more than a figment of his imagination suddenly weighs heavy on him. He drops his car keys in a bowl they keep by the front door. The reassuring _clink_ of the keys hitting the bowl grounds him back in reality.

“Sara?” He calls out tentatively, as he steps in and shuts the door behind him. “I’m home.”

When a response doesn’t immediately come, he’s worried again, but this time it’s not that he’s dreaming, it’s that they’re gone, that someone has taken his family to use as leverage against him. He wonders if this is a feeling he’ll ever be able to leave behind, but he suspects it never will be.

He walks further into their house and his worry slowly starts to dissipate when he sees no signs of struggle, and it alleviates completely when he sees Sara sitting on the patio through the window of their back door, pointing at something and talking to Mike who he’s sure is out in the yard. He lets out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. His nerves are shot. He needs a beer.

He makes a quick detour into the kitchen to pull a beer from the fridge before he steps out into the crisp, evening air.

The sound of the door opening and slamming shut behind him gets Sara’s attention, and she looks over, smiling widely at him. “Hey. You’re home early.”

He smiles at her as he makes his way over to where she sits in their newly purchased patio chairs. “Yeah, a lot of the guys on my team were going to the Sox game tonight, so…” he shrugs, letting his thought trail off into the evening. He looks out into the yard where Mike stands, frowning at his iPad, a tiny robotic ball resting in the grass at his feet.

“What’s he trying to get it to do?” Michael asks before he takes a swig of his beer, and Sara shrugs.

Mike’s toy ball -- his _Sphero_ , he was quick to correct if he heard it called anything else -- was his new favorite toy. The little thing was no bigger than a baseball, motorized, and controlled by his iPad. He’d only had it about two weeks and already he was a pro at sending it flying all around their house, weaving around their furniture, bouncing off of tables and generally being a nuisance to Sara. Last night he had discovered the ability to write little programs for the Sphero to follow, so he and Michael had spent the evening hunched over the iPad, experimenting with different commands before finally getting the ball to flash through a rainbow of colors as it spun in figure eight’s on their living room floor.

“I think he’s trying to get it to jump. I don’t know.” She sighs heavily. “Why did we get that thing again?”

Michael laughs a little as he perches himself on the arm of Sara’s patio chair. He puts his arm behind her and uses the other arm of the chair to brace himself. They have two chairs, but he’d rather be close to her. “Because he wanted it and it’s safer than that remote controlled helicopter he wanted?”

“I guess so,” Sara concedes, as she leans back into Michael, looking out at their son on the yard, furiously tapping on the screen of his tablet. He kisses the side of her head before he too turns to watch their son. They’re quiet for a long moment before Sara finally breaks it.

“How was work?” She tilts her head up to look at Michael.

“It was alright. We had some meetings about a few federal buildings in the city that we just got the contract to retrofit. It’s a huge project.”

“I can’t believe you’re touching anything even remotely related to the government again,” Sara teases him.

He takes a swig of his beer and a nervous laugh escapes him. “Well, it wasn’t my first choice. But work is work. And that’s the project they want me on.” He looks down and begins tapping his fingers against the bottle of beer.  

Sara can sense the topic makes him anxious, so she changes the subject, hoping to ease his tension, “Did you eat?”

Almost immediately, the tapping stops as his mind switches gears. “Just lunch.”

“Let’s go out, then. What do you want?”

Michael’s opening his mouth to say he doesn’t care, she can pick when a small voice pipes up from the yard.

“Tacos!” Mike calls out, grinning up at them from over his iPad.

Michael laughs and looks at Sara who rolls her eyes, in spite of the smile that’s spreading across her face. “I could always go for tacos,” he says.

“Dad!” Mike calls out excitedly, as he begins waving his hand frantically in front of him, motioning for Michael to come to him. Michael smiles. He finds himself wondering again if he’ll ever get tired of hearing his son call for him. _Never_ , he thinks. It’s the most wonderful sound in the world. “I can make it jump now! Watch!” He taps the screen on his iPad and the little ball comes to life, rolling several feet through the grass before hopping up about a half-inch off the ground before it rolls a few more inches and then comes to a stop.

“Great, now it’ll be jumping off the kitchen table,” Sara mutters as she stands. Michael laughs again as he stands with her.

“It’s not _that_ bad,” Michael says as he sets his half empty beer bottle on the patio table behind them. “At least it doesn’t fly.”

“Knowing you two it will be by the end of next week.” She leans in and kisses him quickly, “I’m gonna go change and then we’ll go.”

He watches Sara disappear into their house before turning to head out into the yard

“Alright, buddy,” Michael says, as he steps out into the grass to join his son, “show me how you got it to jump, then we’re going for tacos.”

Mike nods excitedly and as he launches into his spiel about the commands he’s taught his toy, Michael can’t help but smile.

Eighteen months ago, if someone had told him he’d ever be sitting in the backyard of his home with his son, he wouldn’t have believed them. But he’s here now, _they’re_ here now. And maybe, he thinks, the reason he sometimes feels like everything is a dream is because of how unlikely their circumstances are. Because, in spite of everything that stood in their way, they’re here, safe and alive.

They’re a family.

**Author's Note:**

> the sphero ball i talk about mike playing with is a real thing. a guy i worked with had one and they’re awesome. they’re little remote controlled robot balls. they light up and can go in water and they’re basically indestructible. they have all sorts of games you can play with them too. here’s a video of it in action (https://youtu.be/1S5lUDvlu3A). it’s totally a toy michael scofield’s kid would be into.


End file.
